


Fight Me

by BiscuitsAndDiscontent



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiscuitsAndDiscontent/pseuds/BiscuitsAndDiscontent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Kirkland has lungs that suck at being lungs. A recent asthma attack led him to be hospitalized. Though now stable, his doctor has decided to keep him under observation for a few days due to his being unable to take deep breaths and the fact that his vision is blurred. Luckily, he has a cheerful, (and handsome), nurse to keep him company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Me

**Author's Note:**

> Wow look at that this is the first time I write anything in ages. I hope y'all like it. It's based on a post I saw on tumblr and I thought it was cute so ye. Also I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies, whether character or otherwise. Also, sorry for any grammatical errors. I suck at editing.

Sometimes, the walls looked like they had grown fur, like the edges were gentle and might reach out to caress him with their cozy paws.  Other times, they looked sharp and detailed, like knives, despite the fact that they were just plain white walls. Arthur took that as a sign that whatever head trauma had occurred when he’d fallen due to the asthma was starting to get better. He hoped so, anyway.  
  
A day before, he’d had a sudden asthma attack. It had happened in his kitchen, while he was cooking dinner. He wasn’t really sure what had caused it—still wasn’t, actually—but the attack came on strong. His inhaler, which had been close by, was used but had almost no effect. He lost his balance while trying to use his inhaler and take deep breaths, thus he fell, hitting his head against the counter. He was lucky that the injury didn’t cause him to lose consciousness. He managed to reach his cell phone and call the local hospital.  
  
Thus, after a terrible, sleepless night, he was sitting in a hospital room, the walls white and sometimes fuzzy, sometimes not. The contrast hurt his head a little and so he closed his eyes, attempting to take a full breath but unable to. This scared him and he forced himself to try to calm down. When he could not, he pressed a button on the remote of his bed, calling for a nurse.  
  
He waited a moment, and then, fate walked right through his hospital room door. Well, not fate, but a male nurse wearing fate’s clothing, Arthur supposed. Either way, breathing became more difficult and his heart beat accelerated a little at the sight of this handsome man. The heart rate monitor at the side of his bed accelerated. Arthur fumbled for the inhaler at his bedside and used it. Once again, the medicine seemed to be useless. He removed the inhaler from his lips and watched the nurse.  
  
The nurse worriedly approached his bed side and studied the monitor and then looked at his patient. Arthur gazed up at the nurse, in awe at the beautiful cerulean eyes that so carefully checked everything around him. He bit his lip, still panting softly with his shortness of breath, when the nurse’s muscles became taut and all the more defined.  
  
With a serious look on his handsome face, the nurse helped Arthur calm down with the use of a steroid, albuterol, administering it quickly and quietly. Then, the nurse turned quickly, about to leave the room and get Arthur’s doctor, when Arthur croaked out a soft, “Wait.”  
  
The nurse turned and looked at him, and, for a moment, he saw those fantastic cerulean eyes hesitate on staying or going. But the moment fled and the nurse was gone. A minute later, the nurse was replaced by his doctor, as well as a couple other nurses, both of whom were female.  
  
The doctor checked his lungs and said that due to his shortness of breath and the continuing blurred vision, Arthur would have to stay at the hospital for a couple more days, just in case. The head trauma was something that especially worried the doctor, and so he wanted to keep him under observation, should anything happen.    
  
For the first time in his life, Arthur was just the slightest bit happy about staying in a hospital for more time than he felt necessary. It would give him time, after all, to actually speak with that wonderful nurse. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Three times, a nurse came in to give him food and make sure he ate it. The food was decent. In the evening more nurses came to help him into the bath. These nurses were a mix of male and female, but none of them were the ocean eyed mad from before.  
  
Every so often, other nurses stepped in to check on him. They never stayed very long. They hurried away to other patients. None of them captured his attention quite like the blue eyed nurse did, though.  
  
Finally, that night, the nurse, the blue eyed man, came in to check on Arthur’s vitals. Arthur, though aware that it was probably a bad idea—what with the head trauma and the crappy lungs he had—lay beneath a horribly made fort of pillows and sheets, (he’d requested and  been given those pillows and sheets earlier in the day).  The nurse was a little surprised at such a sight, but went about his business, taking his time in carefully making sure everything was in order for Arthur.  
  
That was, until Arthur mumbled an exhausted, “Fight me,” from beneath the pillows, his cheeks dusted a light pink at seeing the nurse.  
  
There was silence through the room for a minute as Arthur stared up at the nurse through his pillow and sheet fort; there was only complete and utter quiet as those glimmering eyes gazed at him. Finally, there was a gentle chuckle, and the nurse removed the pillows and helped Arthur sit up. Arthur shivered from the nurse’s gentle touch.  
  
“Maybe later,” the nurse finally responded with a slight smile. He finished checking on Arthur and was about to leave when Arthur blurted out, “Wait a moment. What’s your name?”  
  
The nurse turned around and smiled. “I’m Alfred.”  
  
With that, Alfred was out the door. Arthur sighed. At least he still had a couple days to get to know this wonderful nurse a little better. With that thought in mind, he went to sleep.

 

The walls were less like furry, comfy creatures, and more like detailed sculptures with hard edges the next day. Rarely now did the walls shift into that fuzzy state. Arthur told this to the doctor and the doctor nodded with a solemn, stone cold face. He stated that currently, Arthur should stay for the next day, although it was possible that after that, he would be able to leave.  
  
When the doctor and his small entourage of nurses left, nurse Alfred walked into the room, quiet and smiling a little. Arthur bit his lip and frowned. He clutched the sheets and glared up at the still smiling nurse. “Fight me!” Arthur insisted. His threat would have probably been taken more seriously if he hadn’t started coughing and become short of breath again, (although not nearly as terrible as the day before).  
  
Nurse Alfred smiled and helped him calm down with a little bit of the steroid. Afterward, he made his way out, but not before turning around at the doorway, grinning and responding in a sweet tone with the words, “I can’t fight you, Arthur. I know you’d win.”  
  
Arthur was left wide eyed and slack jawed. His cheeks reddened and he buried his face in a pillow, smiling so broadly he thought his face would freeze that way. He was oddly cheerful for his normally grumpy self.  
  
 His doctor commented on his demeanor that night, before he left the hospital for the day, and Arthur shrugged, saying that it was probably because his eye sight wasn’t so blurry and his lungs were working better.  
  
  
The walls didn’t shift anymore. They stood still and retreated from him, keeping him safe in their enclosure but refusing to be comfortable looking anymore. The doctor told him that he would be able to leave that afternoon.  
  
His doctor told him that he needed to have his house cleaner, freer of dust. He also told Arthur that if he had anymore pains, whether on his torso or his head, to come see him. Arthur agreed and went to the bathroom to change into his regular clothes, glad to finally be free of the antiseptic-smelling hospital gown.    
  
When he emerged, nurse Alfred was standing there, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands. He was smiling, like always. This time, though, there was a hint of mischief in his smile. Arthur tilted his head to the side slightly, his cheeks reddening slightly and his eyebrows furrowing.  
  
“Hello, nurse Alfred,” Arthur said, surprise infiltrating his supposed ‘cool and collected’ tone of voice. Alfred nodded. “What are you do-?” Alfred interrupted him halfway through his sentence. “I heard that you’re leaving today so I wanted to give you a going away present.”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What for? I barley know you.” Despite saying this, Arthur was jumping for joy on the inside. Alfred just smiled and shoved the cup of coffee into his hands. “This can fix that.”  
  
Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment and then looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands. His face turned bright red and he struggled for a moment to comprehend how exactly his crappy lungs, sickly face, and mass amounts of drool had managed to seduce this amazing nurse.  
  
Written on the cup was the phrase “ _Fight me_?”  
  
Beneath it was a phone number with an arrow pointing away that read, “ _Call me?_ ”  
  
A tiny, crude smiley face was drawn beside it. The whole thing was quite crude actually; the hand writing was messy and should have been unreadable.  Even so, Arthur’s heart fluttered a little. He looked up to stammer his thanks to the nurse but Alfred had already gone.  
  
Arthur smiled and took a sip of the coffee before making a face. The coffee was not what he liked in coffee. It lacked a certain milky sweetness to it. In fact, it was pretty much just black coffee. Arthur rolled his eyes and took another acrid sip.  
  
The first thing Alfred would learn, as soon as Arthur left the hospital, was that Arthur hated coffee. And that was simply the beginning. As Arthur walked out, he could almost feel the walls waving their goodbyes.


End file.
